


courtesy of

by legendrarry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 00:43:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5607220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendrarry/pseuds/legendrarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey! What the – Potter, what are you doing –?”</p><p>Harry waves the note around in his face. “Why?”</p><p>“That’s what I was asking you, Potter,” Malfoy snaps, leaning away from the parchment that Harry’s practically shoving under his nose.</p><p>“No, Malfoy, why –” Harry uses his grip on Malfoy’s arm to force his hand out. He presses the note into it, “– did this note come with my new broom?”</p><hr/><p> </p><p>tumblr asked for "an AU where Harry didn't get his Nimbus 2000 from McGonagall. Instead, Draco persuaded Lucius to buy one." The idea wouldn't leave me alone, so... here we are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	courtesy of

* * *

 

’ _Courtesy of L. Malfoy_.’

Harry stares blankly at the note attached to the tail of his brand new Nimbus 2000, reading the words over and over.

They still don’t quite make sense.

He compares it to the other note in his hand, the one from McGonagall insisting that he not open the parcel at the table. The handwriting is completely different.

“'L. Malfoy,‘” he mutters, brow furrowing.

“What’s the matter?” Ron asks, tearing his eyes away from the broomstick on the bed to look over Harry’s shoulder at the elegant scrawl. “'L. Malfoy?” he says, nose scrunching up at the name. “That can’t be right. Not _Lucius_ Malfoy?”

“ _Malfoy_ ,” Harry repeats, still unable to wrap his mind around the name.

“No,” Ron corrects. “His _dad_. Dad complains about him all the time.”

“But. . .” Harry struggles for a moment, trying to find the right words. Eventually he settles on, “But. . . _why_? Why would _Malfoy’s dad_ send me a broomstick?”

“Dunno,” Ron says, eyeing the broom warily now. “But from what Dad’s said about the Malfoys, you might want to hold off on flying it.” He catches the look on Harry’s face. “Kidding," he adds. "Mostly, I mean. I don’t think McGonagall would let anyone send you a jinxed broom.”

Harry stands before he realises he’s doing it, taking the note with him. The corner of it rips as it’s detached from the broomstick.

“Harry?”

“I’ll be back,” Harry assures him, and heads back down towards the Great Hall.

 

He’s got no idea where the Slytherin common room is, but thankfully, by the time he gets back downstairs, breakfast hasn't been over for long. He spots Malfoy almost immediately – his hair stands out almost as much as Ron’s does – and he catches up to him easily as he heads for the stairs. A few of the surrounding Slytherins give him looks that go from curious to alarmed as Harry grabs Malfoy by the arm and drags him back to the deserted Great Hall.

“Hey! What the – Potter, what are you _doing_ –?”

Harry waves the note around in his face. “ _Why_?”

“That’s what I was asking _you_ , Potter,” Malfoy snaps, leaning away from the parchment that Harry’s practically shoving under his nose.

“No, Malfoy, _why_ –” Harry uses his grip on Malfoy’s arm to force his hand out. He presses the note into it, “– did this note come with my new broom?”

Malfoy blinks at it, eyes narrowed, and Harry watches as two blotches of pink appear high on his cheeks.

“ _Well_?” Harry demands.

“Well what?” Malfoy replies irritably, jerking his arm roughly out of Harry’s grip. “The Muggles you live with did teach you to read, did they not?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “I didn't ask what it says, Malfoy,” he says exasperatedly. “I asked why it came with my broom. _Why_ is my broom ‘courtesy of L. Malfoy?”

Draco busies himself with straightening out the sleeves on his robes. “You’re the new Gryffindor seeker,” he says, as if that answers Harry’s question.

“Er. . . ” Harry replies, because Wood’s told him a million times not to confirm or deny the rumours.

Draco rolls his eyes. “Everyone knows about it already.”

“What does that have to do with –”

The blond crosses his arms, narrows his eyes. “You can’t play without a broom, idiot,” he drawls.

“Well, no, I know that,” Harry begins, brow furrowed again. Whatever’s going on here, he still doesn't get it, because there’s no way Malfoy’s saying what he thinks he is.

“And playing on one of the school brooms is even worse,” Malfoy points out. His jaw is set, like he’s daring Harry to disagree.

“And how did your dad know I needed a broom?” Harry presses, comprehension starting to sink in.

Malfoy doesn't answer the question directly. Just averts his eyes and mutters, “He wasn't supposed to leave a _note_.”

And that just amazes Harry even more.  The corners of his mouth twitch. He can’t help it. “You asked him to,” he says incredulously.

Grey eyes meet green at last and Malfoy’s looking at him defiantly, all pointed chin and narrowed eyes. “I fully intend to make the Slytherin team next year,” he says stubbornly. “It’ll be far too easy to beat you if you haven’t even got a decent broomstick.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning. He can’t help it. “You’re not as bad as I thought, Malfoy,” he admits.

Malfoy puffs himself up indignantly. “I most certainly am,” he insists. But he doesn't look annoyed or embarrassed anymore.

In fact, if not for the bell ringing for morning classes, Harry suspects he might have even been able to get a smile out of the stubborn git. 

Malfoy glances towards the doors of the Great Hall, then back at Harry. “I should – ” he begins, but stops abruptly, looking down in mild surprise at Harry’s outstretched hand. “I don’t need pity,” he says at last, quiet and tense,  and he’s scowling now. “That’s not why I did it.”

“Good, because it’s not pity,” Harry replies. “I just thought. . . maybe we could start over.”

Malfoy looks at him for a moment, letting Harry stand there feeling stupid and uncertain, but eventually he reaches out and shakes his hand. He lets go quickly, looking embarrassed, and for a few awkward seconds they just stand there, alternating between looking at each other and looking anywhere _but_ at each other.

The warning bell rings and Harry belatedly remembers that he’s supposed to be in Transfiguration in two minutes – a classroom at least five minutes away. A quick glance at Malfoy’s wide, alarmed eyes tells him he’s not the only one who’s almost definitely going to be late.

“Gotta go!” Harry practically shouts, and thinks Malfoy might have said something too, but they’re both running for the door, turning in opposite directions and sprinting away.

He would like to ride his new broom at some point, after all, and he can hardly do that if McGonagall finally makes good on her promise to transfigure him into a pocket watch.


End file.
